Heir to Winterfell
by ar-men15
Summary: An AU timeline, set in a vague post WW2 - post reconstruction time. The North has its independence, but the Queen's desires aren't fulfilled yet. Happily married, she needs her sister's help more than ever. Arya is caught between her desire of freedom and her duty to House Stark. Tyrion adores his wife. Jaime is rebuilding his life in the North.
1. At first

Chapter Text

ARYA

Coming and going, never setting permanently.  
Arya Stark had been away from Winterfell town for so long during her youth.  
First two boring public schools for high born girls she was expelled from, then the nurse school she attended in the East, then the service in the army during the first months of the war: the idea to stay after the North won had become unnatural.  
The kingdom and Winterfell Hall were safe with Sansa and Tyrion, her mother had moved to her ancestral castle with her younger sibling - a better climate for Rickon's asthma - the country was in peace, the Queen was wise and Arya trusted the North army commander.  
Arya was an independent young woman of one and twenty, eager to discover the world, so she decided to travel and return home and take leave again.  
An intoxicating sensation of freedom on her skin, tickling like the frozen rain of her homeland, before it became snow.  
Arya was away for her third travel, the first to last more than a few weeks, when the telegram found her in Kings Landing, observing the reconstruction of the city destroyed by fire and bombs.  
The awful news, once again the shattered hope to hold in her arms her first niece or nephew; Tyrion was asking Arya to be back to support Sansa.  
Arya took her time to return, ruled by a strange impulse to delay, to prolong the travel, to stay away for as much as possible.  
Every evening she felt sorry for her sister, every morning she had the impulse to miss the train or boat.  
Home was calling her like a magnet, attracting and repulsing her at the same time.  
Home were memories sad and happy, father and Robb gone, the war and her scars, laughs and family gatherings and the pure white snow covering the landscape.  
Nymeria felt her three days in advance, the wolf left the Hall gardens and run into the woods, as Arya could speak to her, hear Sansa's cries, taste her salty tears, listen to Tyrion's silence and feel hands caressing the large furry head.  
Nymeria getting close to a former enemy was a novelty, Tyrion was scared of wolves and kept himself always at safe distance. The wolf loved to put her large muzzle under people's arms and offered her paw, she appeared tamer than usual.  
Nymeria was closer to ten than to five, less wild than in her youth, Arya had forgotten how young she herself was when she held her puppy for the first time.  
Getting closer to the North, her return was delayed also by transport issues, the country was rebuilding itself slowly, few trains and buses reached the capital, shortage of fuel, of electricity, the roads had many holes, food was rationed.  
She missed her old open jeep, the one she drove careless on the fields around Winterfell town, all worn out seats and rusty scars Tyrion had promised her to fix. Her brother in law was such a good man, he didn't deserve to be born a dwarf and be deprived of a family.

TYRION

Tyrion spent a week in his study, reading books, writing letters to the best hospitals, asking Doctor Tarly's advice, completed with Sam's own search: Tyrion had to know, to find an answer to their failure.  
The letters returned, the opinions were different and contradictory.  
Cold weather, as if the snow was not a good reason to stay in bed all day with his dear wife, making love.  
Too strong pressures to have an heir. But they were able to conceive, it was impossible to carry to term.  
The food they ate to add strength to his seed and her womb – fresh seafood and oysters were recommended and he laughed loudly, Winterfell town was far from the sea and the goods would arrive frozen if he ordered them.  
Too frequent or too few couplings – a doctor suggested abstinence to have a stronger seed for just an attempt a month, another …  
In a fit of rage Tyrion throw all the letters into the fire.  
Defeat. He had to admit it.  
Lannister's seed was good, his mother had two easy pregnancies, the delay between his and his sibling's birth due to their father often away abroad; she died shortly after his birth due to the flu epidemic that killed hundreds of people across all the kingdoms. His sister and his brother – damnation to their love – conceived three healthy children, there was a myriad of Lannister cousins.  
The true reason of Sansa's miscarriages would remain unknown.  
Five years of marriage, three children lost, always in the first trimester; Sansa was getting more and more distraught and the mere thought of her falling into depression was frightening for Tyrion.  
She wanted to be a mother, she loved children, she fostered some after the end of the war, then found families for all of them, except for a skinny little girl with dark hair; later when a single mother drowned into the cold lake after a flood Sansa took care of her little boy.  
But they weren't true heirs for Winterfell, heirs needed to secure peace after so many years of war. The siege during the first months of war had been an example, things could change in the space of a heartbeat.  
Tyrion was aware peace was still fragile and Bran's health important to preserve, his brother in law was in a wheelchair and couldn't travel easily to settle disputes and threats.  
Sansa was a great Queen, respected and loved, Tyrion knew the decision to stay with her in the North was the wisest of his whole life; all the people he loved were there, his new family and the remains of the old


	2. Lost and found

Chapter Text

SANSA

Sansa woke up in silence to let Tyrion rest, she picked up a wool robe and headed downstairs to the kitchens while dawn was filtering through the thick curtains that kept the cold outside.  
It was early, she was still sleepy, but she wanted to eat a slice of bread to ease her stomach, then sit at her desk beside the fire and write to Bran.  
Elected as chairman of the council of the kings and queens, her brother was one of her best counsellors, beside her husband.  
Her family was scattered, but Tyrion was home and Arya often visited; she hoped for more, from her only sister, but pressure Arya was a sure failure. It was already a miracle things were going well with the Lannisters, after the troubled years before the war, that caused her brother in law to be wounded and loose a hand.  
She opened the door at the bottom of the stairs and a sudden cramp caused her to lay heavily against the frame. She breathed for a while standing still, the cramps intensified.  
She tried not to cry, but tears were too close to her eyelids to be pushed back. She was sure what her body was telling her, a failure, another delusion.  
Earlier than the second time, later than the first: she counted each day, praying for a miracle. Sansa remembered her mother during her last pregnancy with Rickon, when the doctor's prognosis wasn't good; Catelyn's roots from the Tully ancestral land helped the mother to be and she lighted candles in front of the altar of the Holy Mother in her private chapel and prayed every morning and evening to keep her baby alive.  
Sansa was her mother's portrait but not her mother's body regarding children.  
She slide on the tiled floor and let herself cry. She forgot the discomfort, the cramps, the coldness, she wept and her tears washed away her pain and her child.  
Later she'd call Tyrion to be lead to Sam's practice and back on their bed, to be comforted and tended to. Now she just wanted to be alone.  
Sandor Clegane's sleep was always difficult if he was sober, so he used to leave his room barely after dawn, busying himself with useful chores, wanting to show his devotion to house Stark who saved him from his horrible past.  
When he arrived with coal to start the kitchen fires, he saw the prone body and kneeled beside Sansa.  
Without need for words, he lifted her up, saw the red stain on her robe and holding his precious little Queen  
run upstairs to her husband.  
Sansa was like a feather in his strong arms, she felt his tears on her hair. Her people's love and devotion were a balm to her aching heart and another blow to her deapir for failing them with the long awaited heir to Winterfell.

JAIME

Admiration, respect, awe and fear. Not in equal parts.  
Colonel Jaime Lannister remembered well when Arya Stark returned to the walls of Winterfell town with her scout Clegane, preceding the enemy's siege.  
As the Northern Army Commander - after the Starks's decision to appoint him to the delicate position at the start of the war - he let them go out on patrol after Arya's insistent request; the young Stark girl gave up her nurse position when Lieutenant Bran Stark was badly wounded in his back. Arya wanted revenge, wanted to kill, she opened Jaime's office door and stood still and proud until Jaime lead her to the polygon and got the surprise of his life when she hold her first gun.  
Full score.  
A natural.  
Better than her fencing, her father's great passion he passed to some of his children.  
A few days of further training and long evenings spent together studying artillery were enough to confirm her abilities. Sargeant Clegane become her shadow – at Sansa's and Jaime's request - and the foundries close to the mines were reorganized to produce new and more powerful cannons. War effort, all resources were used, all people. Artillery weapons surrounded Winterfell town and the other main towns of the kingdom.  
Screaming engine and screeching tyres, Arya jumped off her open jeep in a rush of limbs and shouted, calling her sister, Tyrion and Jaime loudly.  
The siege. Frantic, fast, a horde of soldiers and mercenaries, a wild bunch of nameless and honourless soldiers, who wanted the gold and the goods of the North.  
Colonel Lannister appreciated the young Stark woman barking orders, calling the men on the town walls and forcing to take refuge inside them Sansa and those unable to fight.  
The artillery was ready, they had enough bullets stored under the basement and the huge crypt under the cathedral, the town was protecting the valleys behind it from the advancing soldiers with their menacing red and white flags.  
All gates closed, all secret passageways controlled, the night fell and the lights of the enemy camps shone like wild animals' eyes in the darkness. The town was cut off from its allies, the army of the North had to fight alone, people were piled up inside the town, food and water rationed.  
Arya was not afraid, a brave and strong girl, she remembered Jaime her aunt, a lifetime before, when their families were closer, when his father tried to forge deeper alliances through marriages.  
Lyanna died because of men, of men's ego and jealousy and Arya showed clearly no intention at all to fall in the same trap.  
She'd put a claim on someone if she felt inclined so, maybe a short living claim, not accepting to be claimed herself, Sansa had told the two Lannisters.  
Arya was strong, in her petite body was hidden a powerful energy, fuelled by a natural lust for fighting.  
In the war office, Tyrion was speaking with officers Tully, Greyjoy and Giantsbane, Jaime studied maps with Arya, their eyes met above the large sheets spread on the table. Smoke from the fire, sweat, bottles of single malt and food leftovers, yellow lamp lights that made Jaime's hair look white.  
"I have a plan." She broke the silence, pointing her middle finger on the map. "The siege will be short if I sneak out from the canal running under the town hall and main street for a mile, it gets iced as soon as it leaves the hot springs on the western side and I can walk on it. I'm light."  
Jaime followed her hand, intrigued by the idea, Sansa was worried.  
"It is risky. They could see you in the open"  
"I know this town better than anyone else. The canal ends in a bramble bunch near the old chapel with the fallen roof. I can crawl under and I know the path to the other side of the hill, leading to the farms. The woods are so dark and thick I can pass from branch to branch. I'll get a car in one of the farms and drive to reach the Wolves, while the united army under Jaime's command will create a diversion at the south town gate. Like asking an armistice, offering a truce."  
At the mention of the special regiment with the grey wolf on the banner, the selected commandos lead by Arya's cousin, Major Jon Snow, based in most remote area of the North, Jamie had to admit Arya was a good strategist indeed.  
She was determined, she deserved to be a high rank official beside him, dealing with the war council.  
When after two days he spent awake - afraid to close his eyes and worried to death for Arya - Jaime heard the wolves' song of war, powerful and loud and saw their silver fur berets shining in the distance, he stood outside the gate she had told him to guard and guided the Northern army to a great victory.

TBC


	3. Coming home

ARYA II

Tyrion waited for Arya near the main gate, sat on the old well's edge; when Nymeria become restless, pulling her rope, refusing food and eventually running away into the woods during the previous week, Tyrion understood her owner was coming home.  
Arya quickly get out of the car driven by Sandor and ran to hug Tyrion; her height quite unchanged since entering puberty, she was nevertheless a head taller than him.  
"How's Sansa?" She looked straight into his eyes, asking for the truth.  
"Slowly accepting, this time's been harder."  
"Third time? I've been away for a long time."  
"Yes, third, we're giving up, Sansa can't destroy herself."  
"I'll speak with her." They started walking toward the Hall entrance, Tyrion appeared resigned, Arya noticed.  
"It could be my fault, you know. I'm a monster, it's evident."  
"Tyrion your body is just…smaller. And Sansa got pregnant, so you …"  
"But I never fathered a live child with all the women I had before her!"  
The subject of Tyrion's confused and promiscuous past, especially when he lived abroad, had been forgotten due to the war. More urgent issues had arisen, then after the victory Tyrion and sansa were in love and their previous lives were not important anymore.  
"Do you think one of them could have?"  
"No, I don't think so. But Shae, I know she wanted one. She missed her period, once, and then she told me and for a week I was happy, a bastard would be another shame from me for father, but I didn't care. Then she bleed and I drunk myself to oblivion for three days, thinking how fool I had been to deserve a little happiness for me."

JAIME II

The little wolf was back home; Jaime heard her unmistakable voice coming from the back garden then he saw her walking with Sandor through the apple field.  
Arya Stark was careless and wild and Jaime was enchanted, she was like Lyanna had been, like Cersei was before lust for power – not for him – got the best of her.  
Maybe Arya's fate would be better than theirs: Ned stark let his sister and daughters follow their own inclinations. Lyanna got caught in a poisonous love net, Arya's foil was her true love.  
They met on the fencing platform at night during the war, to find a distraction, to concentrate in the effort, each aiming to a victory.  
Cersei as a child liked to swap roles with him and train, but she was never so dedicated to fencing like the young Stark.  
Jaime admired Arya because she was not afraid. Dressed in trousers and worn out mackintosh, wearing muddy boots and never a trace of lipstick, she was autentic.  
A young Cersei liked to fight with him, to bathe in the sea under the castle, to run along the dark corridors of the inhabited wings so that no one could see them.  
Arya was this and more and he couldn't help to feel again some of those emotions he had forgotten for so long, buried under the pain of the death of his family, of the loss of Cersei's love.  
Betrayed and damned by a woman only, since he opened his eyes as a child, until all their children died.  
Having around Arya, Jaime felt younger, alive, and he stared with a hint of sadness at how she laughed and smiled with the other soldiers, how she drove her jeep around the camp. The local blacksmith promoted chief gunner was a young man, black hair and broad chest, who reminded Jaime of someone, until he heard the news he had royal blood and made the connection with the dead king.  
If only… If only Robert had not loved Lyanna, how things would have been different, maybe his sister 'd not married into the Stag house.  
Waa history repeating itself? Was Gendry obsessed with Arya like his father had been with her aunt?  
Maybe Gendry could catch Arya's eye, a young and fierce woman and all men would like to be hers, her first, her only.  
A girl made of steel, a concentrate of energy and Jaime liked to banter with her and he wanted to make her laugh, to see her smile after Gendry left for his new position on the family seat.  
It was right, Cersei's younger son was meant to be the legitimate heir of Storm's end, but Tommen died and Gendry took his father's former house. The pain in Jaime's heart was a sharp knife in his flesh, he'd preferred to have one of his offspring alive, to remain a secret father until his death, instead of having three graves he could stand by, mourning.

SANSA II

"Jon's second child could inherit Winterfell. Male or female. The succession rules have been changed after so many heirs and squires died in the war."  
Sansa was all practical matters, her face expressionless, eating porridge for breakfast. Years after the victory, there was shortage of food, crops were scarce, too many fields left abandoned and farms destroyed; Tyrion was searching new farmers to settle there with the promise of long leasings of the land.  
Tyrion felt his heart drown in sadness: his wife, the love of his life, deserved so much more.  
"There must be another way." He wanted them to try for the fourth time but she was so sad.  
"Who else, Tyrion? Robb is dead. Jon and Ygritte's firstborn is heir to their kingdom. Rickon's health is precarious. Bran cannot sire so he and Meera adopted, there's no…"  
"Arya could." Sansa's eyes widened and the spoon she was holding fell from her fingers..  
"Arya? Are you drunk?"  
"Not at all, my love. I'm perfectly sober."  
"She'd kill whatever man would dare to get close. Slaughter him with her foil before he could kiss her, let alone take her to bed."  
"Not all men, I'm sure."  
Sansa stared at her husband whit a quizzical look. He was up to something, his brain was making a plan and she was absolutely curious to hear it.  
Sansa wondered if Tyrion had developed his intelligence because he could not develop his body or for a cruel joke he got all the brain while his two siblings got good looks and perfect bodies.  
She knew she'd accepted gladly a dwarf child, gifted with the father's intelligence; what a vain blond fool Joffery had been, stupid, cruel and also without his real father's brave heart?  
Tyrion cut apple slices and put some on Sansa's plate, waiting for her to chew it before speaking.  
"Have you noticed when Arya is here how close to my brother she is? I've never seen him so alive since he left our sister."  
Jaime's eyes had a different light when he fenced with the little wolf, she was teaching him how to use his remaining hand. They could spend all the afternoon inside the training room, forgetting everything, hunger and thirst and tiredness, concentrated on the weapons they used, his new foil, lighter than his old sword to adapt to his less powerful and reliable left hand, and her long thin one, made by excellent steel, a gift from her old friend Gendry, once a blacksmith, now legitimized and Lord on his own right.  
"Gendry asked Arya's hand during the siege and she refused."  
Sansa received her sister's confession when Arya announced her incoming travel after the war; sansa wasn't happy to part from her sister so soon, but she understood Winterfell town was not enough for Arya, nor Storm's end with Gendry; at the time, Arya wasn't ready for marriage.  
Sansa's youthful books about white knights and sweet princesses lead her to marry a dwarf in the Godswood chapel where her parents had married, a man whose intelligence had few competitors and whose height sadly too much.  
"You could sponsor Lord Baratheon, if you wish, my dear."  
In truth, Tyrion believed a life with Gendry wasn't suitable for a free spirit like Arya because Gendry's prospective had changed since he remained the only male heir of the royal Baratheon line; Sansa had doubts a seasoned old lion could forge with Arya a different kind of bond, a unconventional one, so the couple disagreed on the topic.  
Tyrion could not discuss with Sansa his belief Arya missed a fatherly role and an older man would offer her stability, an anchor; Tyrion was sure Jaime would never force her to become a proper lady.


	4. The project

Chapter Text

TYRION II

The celebration of the armistice was one of the most important events for the whole kingdom.  
Every year the Queen's family gathered in Wintertown cathedral hall to take part to the commemoration, wearing red coccradre and visiting the war memorials.  
Knowing how important the date was for Sansa, Arya planned her travels to return always in time  
It was a difficult day for the Queen, the parade, the speeches, flowers and candles for each grave. Father, Robb, Theon, uncles and cousins who shed their blood for the North.  
Sad memories of people once loved and now lost forever.  
The Stark family used to meet in the evening around the dining room table of the Hall and although Sansa loved to see her mother and siblings reunited, she felt her heart too saddened looking at her father's seat in the drawing room, where no one wanted to sit; her wolf lady loved to rest under it.  
Tyrion knew Sansa would leave the group soon, it had happened since the first time, six years ago, when she had slide quietly from the couch, put her coffee on the table and headed for the door.  
He had followed, as fast as his legs allowed, and once in the corridor called for the Queen.  
It wasn't the place he meant to, but the time was right, Lady Catelyn had talked during the whole dinner about the future of the House, of the kingdom, about lineage and young bachelor lords so Tyrion took a deep breath, hide his trembling hands behind his back and asked Sansa to marry him.  
She stopped, bowed her head to meet his eyes and whispered her yes.  
This time they took leave together, undisturbed, while Catelyn and Arya discussed about Arya's choice of clothing. A pair of black trousers and a white shirt Catelyn swore belonged to one of her sons; it was a topic mother and daughter always disagreed upon so Sansa smiled climbing the marble staircase.  
Tyrion used to set out a small celebration in their private sitting room, a bottle of champagne and a freshly baked lemon cake for the Queen.  
Sansa opened the door and saw the warm fire and the food on the small table, with a bunch of daisies from the gardens in a crystal vase.  
She turned to face her husband and he took her hand and kissed it  
"Happy anniversary, my love." he whispered.  
Tyrion poured two glasses and offered Sansa hers, they toasted and Tyrion gulped the champagne, there was a nervousness he felt in every part of his small body.  
Sansa took just a little sip.  
"Thank you." She said, caressing Tyrion's cheek before moving to the door leading to their bedroom.  
The cake untouched, Tyrion's suspicions increased.  
When he followed, after putting ashes to calm the fire, she was already in bed and he swiftly joined his wife, turning off the lights; he scooted to her side and Sansa turned, giving Tyion her back.  
He froze, his hand stopped mid air, before it reached her arm.  
Never once before she refused him on those nights or on their marriage anniversaries, neither the second time she was pregnant and they added more joy to the celebration.  
"Sansa please, look at me. "  
Sheets moving and she complied but her arms over the duvet were along her body, not around him.  
"Are you unwell?"  
"No Tyrion, it had been a long and difficult day."  
He nodded and took her hand, caressing the palm.  
"I know, my dear, I'm sorry for the sad memories the war causes you. But Rickon seemed so happy to be here."  
"He can travel because he's better, my mother has saved him. she could not accept to loose another son after Robb."  
Tyrion's hand moved up her shoulder and she remained still; her skin was so cold..  
"But you're not happy."  
He wanted desperately to hold her, to have his arms around his dear wife and make love to her; her cold reaction was painful to see.  
"I'm afraid, Tyrion. I know what you expect from this evening, but I'm scared. If.. if it should happen again, I could not…"  
Her voice trembled and tyrion understood: she could not accept another miscarriage and was terrified to try again for a child. It was the reason Sansa was so interested in the idea to pair Arya with a man. Not their child as the heirs, but their nephew or niece.  
"I'm sorry, Sansa."  
Unable to add more words, Tyrion climbed off the bed, took his dressing gown and left the room.

JAIME II

The Lannister brothers usually shared a night cap in the library, Tyrion's informal office; Tyrion's efforts to reduce alcohol consumption were discontinuous. Every new miscarriage made his resolve to stay sober crumble. Tyrion poured a finger of vintage brandy from a bottle long abandoned in the cellar and lifted his glass, turning to admire the fire reflection on the crystal.  
Jaime left his liquor untouched on the table between their armchairs, to remain alert in front of his brother, Tyrion had been observing Jaime for a few days and he wanted to know the reason. He could be the less intelligent Lannister, but he wasn't so stupid.  
"You're different, brother. I saw you laugh loudly, you didn't do it for a very long time."  
"I've find my spot in the world, we're at peace, I have time to teach the young officers."  
"You're still in active service, you're not supposed to be a teacher."  
"They're young, I'm glad to spend time with them. I'm glad to live here, too, we're well feed, warm and your lovely wife keep the Hall alive. I could see myself getting old here. I'm a fat cat in front of the fire more than a roaring lion now."  
"so that's what keep you alive?"  
"I told you, dealing with paper works, riding, sparring. I'm a quiet man."  
"Nothing more?"  
"I'm well past a time of wanting more than I already have. Everything I had I lost. so I stopped desiring impossible things"  
Tyrion observed Jaime, his smile didn't reach full his eyes, there was something Jaime was holding back.  
He knew that feeling, since Tyrion himself was holding back the hurt at not having the desired child; Sansa could see it as a needed heir, for Tyrion it would be the occasion to have someone to protect, to teach, his mind was wide, bigger than his frail mortal body and maybe his child could become a learner, a wise man or woman who'd rule Winterfell and the north with mercy and strength.  
Jaime wasn't a complicated man, never a mastermind like his father and Cersei had been, just an impulsive boy, a kind soul who loved wrong, but loved with all his heart. Cersei had been a poison for Jaime during their youth and early adulthood, until she descended into madness.  
Tyrion, happy and deeply in love with Sansa, would like the same for Jaime and he hoped his plan could help him.  
A part of him thought it wasn't right to force his brother to consider the idea of a family, but he remembered the night after Myrcella's death. Tyrion forced Jaime to sit beside him near the fireplace and offered him a whiskey, but Jaime grabbed the proffered hand, letting the glass fall and shatter in pieces, and hid his face in his brother's chest, growling like a wounded animal.  
Jaime had thought Myrcella was safe to return home with him after her broken engagement, they were talking on the car, for once Jaime was alone with her in a six hours drive and he wanted her to know the truth about her parentage. She already did and was not repulsed and his heart was full of hope; they travelled talking as father and daughter for the first time until the truck light behind them got close, too close and before Jaime pulled on the side to let it pass, the drunken driver pushed them against a tree and killed Myrcella.  
Tyrion dared to ask Jaime if he'd turn back time and avoid father three children.  
"I don't know. All the good I did was nothing compared to the moment Mrycella accepted me. She loved me, my face and my history. For that brief time, I felt a changed man."

ARYA III

Arya remained silent while Sansa observed her; she had predicted a fit of rage, shouts, Arya storming away from the room, hissing menaces and clenching her fists.  
Instead Sansa got no reactions at all and it was hitting her nerves. She knew the request was unusual and difficult for her sister to process. Tyrion had offered his presence and support, but Sansa believed it was a matter to discuss with Arya alone; Tyrion would be eager to know the outcome later and decide how to approach his own target.  
But Arya seemed to mull over it too much, for too long. The silence was unusual for her, never afraid and seldom at loss for words.  
"Who?" She blurted out.  
Sansa was surprised at the question.  
"What do you mean?"  
"I mean who I have to lie with. Can I choose by myself or should I accept your choice and be quiet and spread my legs?"  
"Arya, I'll never force you…"  
"Well technically you're dong so. I believe last time a Stark was pressed to marry for duty was our great grandfather, am I wrong?"  
Sansa bowed the head in confirmation: when the Stark heir died in the Far East following a military expedition, leaving behind two daughters only, the spare was obliged by his mother to marry a distant cousin who gave birth to grandfather Rickon. By comparison, her first marriage to Ramsay had been simply a young woman tricked by lord Baleish, her mother's long time friend, to choose a handsome husband whose vices were kept well hidden with the compliacency of the whole Hose Bolton.  
Arya's mouth was thin and Sansa noticed she wasn't chewing her lower lip as usual: a bad sign. She preferred the nervous Arya to the cold young women standing now in front of her.  
"I'm explaining simply our responsibility of assuring a heir to the kingdom is now yours. Me and Tyrion cannot."  
Arya laughed, Sansa was getting nervous.  
"You can try with another man. We have enough close examples of infidelity. Jon's father, just to quote one." The man cheated on his wife and Aunt Lyanna ended up pregnant with Jon and heartbroken.  
Arya spat out her inner rage and saw the sudden pain in Sansa's face.  
"Arya!"  
Sansa was faithful to Tyrion and the idea of another man, after Ramsay Bolton and his cruel behaviour was impossible to bear; she choose Tyrion for his tenderness and his deep respect toward her person.  
Arya asked forgiveness for her stupidity, an impulsive reaction; Sansa and Tyrion were meant for each other, Arya was a little envious, deep in her heart, to see how close and devoted they were. Ten years before they met and crashed like two ships in a wreckage, now they were sailing together in perfect unison.  
"It's too important, Arya, I'm pleading for house Stark. We came a long way to keep Winterfell ours and…"  
"And it seems Winterfell is not satisfied. Well, I'll think about it."  
"We could ask our counsellors to write a marriage contract to protect you."  
"Perfect idea! All rules and codes. Has mother suggested it?"  
"I haven't talked with her. It's between us. If you want someone you already know, you could.. ask Gendry."  
"No! I'm not his lady and he'd want to be in my life, in the child's life. And Storms' end is not my home. I need to be free."  
"If not him, are there other man you'd find worth?"  
"My requests aren't easy to satisfy."  
Sansa stopped, no way to name her brother in law as an option; if she listened to Arya's list about a suitable husband, they'll never find the right one. The problem was deadly serious.  
"You could choose a widow or a divorced man already with children, to avoid sterility."  
"Some names you suggests? Our vicar is a widow, but he's 74. I doubt he can bed a woman anymore."  
"There's the Colonel."  
Arya's eyes widened showing all her greyness; of all the men Sansa could propose, he was probably the most absurd one.  
"He's a bachelor, Sansa, are you forgetting it?"  
Sansa's face remained impassive; Arya's forehead furrowed: it couldn't be true, sure Sansa was wrong and Tyrion sure was involved in everything regarding his only brother.  
"Does he have children? I heard rumours in the past about him and his twin." Her voice was tentative, was it true that King Robert's children from his marriage weren't his?  
"He had, Arya."


	5. Broken heart

SANSA III

A mid morning meeting in Sansa's drawing room, under the official portraits of the Starks ancestors, back to the founder of Winterfell hall in the middle age. Their serious faces were a little intimidating and Jaime was never at ease when the Queen summoned him there instead of the conservatory, full of light and blooming lemon trees.  
Jaime held a thick folder, the Queen was at her desk, Tyrion was reading the local newspaper, sipping a cup of tea; a normal routine, documents to examine, promotions to decide, a new air force base to build.  
The royal couple signed the decision taken and Jaime collected the sheets, he needed time with an hand only and he was ready to leave when the Queen asked him to stay.  
"There's another matter, brother." She liked to call him so, knowing it made Tyrion happy.  
Jaime perched on the edge of the chair, his mind imagining a list of possible problems and plausible solutions. There were rumours from the South, riots and street protests due to the corruption in that kingdom; people were hungry and the government unable to feed them; Jaime was against the request of the Martell King to send Northern forces there, his idea was to deliver food.  
"A private one." Tyrion's voice was deadly serious and he stood and closed the door communicating with the Queen's secretary room; Podrick was a trusted man, but the matter was too personal.  
Sansa leaned against the back of her armchair, closing her eyes to concentrate.  
The feeling of wood and worn out leather under her fingers gave her stability and the strength to focus on the talk that was to come. She heard Tyrion move his armchair closer to hers and his hand over hers, offering comfort.  
Five minutes later, Jaime was sweating and he passed a finger under his shirt collar shirt to ease the pressure of his uniform tie.  
Unable to think clearly, he asked permission to leave that the Queen graciously conceded; Sansa didn't say a word watching him sprint to the door, she turned to Tyrion who stood up and embraced her; it has been a difficult proof, Tyrion knew how hard for Sansa was to reveal her sterility to the people.  
Jaime walked inside the Hall, lost like in a labyrinth , he searched for a way out, until he was in the back garden under a large oak tree.  
He felt the need to smoke then he remembered Tyrion was the only one doing so.  
Air, fresh spring air to clear his mind.  
Pale sun, caressing his face.  
_Words, bits of the conversation resounded in his mind._  
_Importance to maintain peace._  
_For the sake of the kingdom._  
_Our need of a heir._  
_It'll stay in the family!_  
_You and Arya sure can._  
_Please, brother, do it for us._  
Not again, he felt a cold shiver running down his spine, felt his heart ache again like when the doctors had told him in the hospital corridor Myrcella was lost and when Tommen's plane went missing from the radar.

JAIME III

Jamie spent the following week walking close to the walls to pass unnoticed.  
Every time he glimpsed a woman - a maid, a secretary, a nurse - he turned into a corner or found an empty room to hide.  
It was silly from a seasoned warrior, but he felt terribly embarrassed at the idea to face Arya. It was evident arya was planning to stay in Winterfell for a while, Sandor took her jeep to the mechanic for a complete revision and Tyrion renovated her old apartment, adding an adjoining office for the Crown Princess using Bran's old bedroom.  
The heir to Winterfell matter wasn't brought up for a few days, but Tyrion told Jaime Sansa had spoken with Arya first, pointing out Jamie's strong seed in fathering Cersei's bastards; in that moment Jamie would have preferred to have something else cut from his body, instead of his right hand.  
And the more he avoided Arya, the more the inauguration of the new train station was approaching, an official event with the presence of the Royal family and various dignitary of the kingdom.  
Jamie asked Tyrion to be freed and got a cold stare from him and Podrick; when he had the idea to fake an illness he knew he had reached the bottom of the pit.  
He faced many enemies in his life, he could not escape Arya Stark forever. Sandor lamented Arya ordered him to find someone else able to spar with her and ended up so disappointed with the poor lad – a young officer from the Academy who fenced since he was a little boy - she throw her foil against the wall, breaking it.  
So Jaime went to the barber, got a new haircut, shaved, wore his best uniform and stood in the inner court beside the Queen's car, holding the door open for Sansa who recognised his gesture.  
Tyrion greeted his brother and pointed at Arya who was a few steps behind.  
Jamie swiftly opened the door of the second car.  
"This way, Lady Stark."  
Arya stopped for a moment, looking at him in a strange way, then climbed into, but when Jamie tried to close the door she left her calf dangling.  
"Aren't you supposed to come?"  
"I'll use the security car."  
"Nonsense, this one's more comfortable and less cramped. And you can't leave the Princess alone."  
Jaime looked around, the royal procession was ready to leave the Hall, all was arranged and they could not delay the program.  
At first, they didn't speak a word; Jaime made a mental calculation of the distance, a drive of ten minutes without traffic or red lights. If all went well, soon it would be over and maybe he could find a way to leave after the official speaks and skip the small reception where the queen would mix for a little while with the people.  
His eyes fixed on the head of the driver, he was aware Arya was leaned against the window, looking at him; a little perspiration on his forehead, five minutes to go still, he counted from one to sixty in his head.  
When Arya asked the driver to stop for a moment in an empty parking lot, Jaime felt his heart beat faster; the princess turned to him.  
"I don't have many choices. If it is not you it will be someone else, and I would prefer to be friend with the father of my child."  
She appeared resigned, the weight of House Stark's future all on her slim shoulders; Jaime missed her, how close they had been during the war, how he felt a little older every time she left for her journeys, a little envious of her freedom, too..  
"You deserve a man better than me."  
"I need someone I like and I care about. And fertile, we cannot risk another failure. I know about your kids. Sansa offered me to legitimize a bastard if I refuse marriage at all."  
Jaime couldn't believe his ears, Sansa was desperate indeed to accept a bastard like Jon had been; he understood Arya's struggles, but he had his own.  
"I don't want to repeat the same circle. If I had a child it will be mine – well mine and of the mother - not of the Crown or of the Starks. I will do it for Sansa and Tyrion, but also for me."  
The feelings and the memories of Myrcella and Tommen Jaime had tried to keep at bay broke his dam and he trembled, he was not ashamed to appear fragile and weak. Arya gave the order to drive again, put a hand on his shoulder, and they remained silent until they reached their destination.

ARYA IV

Arya sat beside Sandor and the dogs on the low wall following the stream, along the left wing of the hall. She stole one of his small cigars and lighted it; Sandor was waiting for her to cough and throw it in disgust but Arya kept her face and her chest breathed heavily only when she inhaled the strong aroma.  
She held a crumpled piece of paper in her fist and she continued twisting it.  
"It won't disappear, whatever you try to crush it."  
By impulse She thrown it into the water below.  
"This way you won't see it anymore, but you already read it and now you know the content."  
Arya took a deep breath, rage was rising in her veins. After Sansa told her what it was expected from her for the kingdom, the letter was simply too much.  
"He's at it again."  
"Who?"  
"Gendry Baratheon. Former Gendry Waters, the blacksmith. He won't leave me be."  
Tender words, memories of their shared youth, description of the beauty of storm's end and alays at the end the same marriage request.  
"He do want you!" Sandor stated.  
"I don't want him. I like him, I cared a lot about him, but I'm not going to be his wife."  
Sandor laughed loudly.  
"You're exigent, men don't think a lot about it. A cunt is just a cunt. Add to it a pretty face and it is enough."  
Arya snorted, she was used to Sandor's crude language, they faced the war together and she saved his ass twice, but his scarred face showed concern after she told him about Sansa's request.  
"Little wolf, I know the Queen is suffering a lot. She loves you so much, it was difficult for her to ask, but your marriage is too important for Winterfell, for the whole North. Maybe after you got the heir you'll be free to do again what you want."  
"But I don't want Gendry!"  
"A cock is like another, you said you care about him." He looked at her, blinking. "Unless you have someone else in your mind."  
Arya stared at Sandor, in silence, then she stood abruptly and left.  
Sandor smiled.  
"Poor the fool who is under he radar." he told his dogs.


	6. To let you go

CERSEI I

Tyrion stood in front of the fire of his current bedchamber, the one Sansa didn't share with him, an inch of vintage brandy in his favourite glass, lost in memories of a few days before.  
He and Jaime outside the modern building, all concrete and glass, clean and aseptical, wanting to keep problems and people inside its walls, as to conceal them.  
"Doctor Qyburn is waiting for us. I don't want to be late."  
Tyrion lifted a hand to prevent his brother's protests and Sandor opened the car's door.  
"It has been three weeks you refused to come."  
He had found Jamie inside the Hall small chapel, lighting a candle to the Holy Mother; it was Tommen's death anniversary, the young man who loved to fly, a member of the best air force squad until that fateful day, when his fighter was hit and crashed in an air battle with the enemy.  
Probably Tommen died immediately, because his companions heard a strong cry of pain on the intercom, then silence; Tomme'ns body was barely recognizable when Jaime arrived at the place of impact.  
Jamie had been so proud of his youngest, they were building a true father-son relationship, Cersei was angry Tommen had chosen Jamie over her, knowing the truth of his parentage; when Tommen travelled up North, she started showing the first symptoms of a mental frailty that after her last child's death would destroy her.  
"I'd prefer not."  
Cersei was in the best and most expensive mental clinic Tyrion found close to Wintertown; he wanted to have her close, if her madness was irreversible, she was still his only sister and former Queen, she deserved the respect of a grieving mother.  
Each visit was hard for Jamie, a testament to his failures with his twin.  
Dr. Quiburn lead the Lannisters to a fake mirror, open to the large sitting room where their sister was staying.  
Every time Jamie saw her his heart ached: Cersei was so thin, with wrinkles on her forehead and around her mouth and she behaved like a child, holding three dolls, their lost children.  
Tyrion visited on an average of twice a month, Jamie felt a coward when he blurted out his pathetic excuses to avoid the travel, it was a sort of self preservation; Tyrion disapproval was evident, but his brother accepted the situation, this time Tyrion was determinate.  
"She seems active today."  
Jamie tried to say something, noticing Cersei was walking around in circles and every time she was in front of the fake mirror he felt her eyes into his skin; it was simply an illusion, Qyiburn told them she couldn't see the other side.  
"It happens, her general condition is unchanged." The doctor replied.  
"So there is no hope?"  
"Colonel Lannister, your sister is living in a world of her own, at miracle only could change her and we don't know how to make one."  
Tyrion touched Jamie's arm.  
"Here she is cared and protected, it's the best we can do. You have to accept it to move on."  
On their drive back, Jaime turned to his brother, his eyes wet with tears.  
"I know why you forced me to come."  
"Jaime, I did it for you."

SANSA IV

"Do you know who I was?"  
Sansa was tending to her flowers in the conservatory when Jaime asked urgent admission; the Queen appeared unflappable by his request.  
"You were a soldier and now you're our army commander."  
"Not what I did, I mean the man I was before."  
Sansa straightened her back, took off her gardening gloves and put her hands palm flat on the working table; Jaime's face was deadly serious and she feared he was going to renounce his position and leave Winterfell. Tyrion would be devastated without Jaime, the only close of his kin.  
She offered him a stool and noticed how stiff the colonel sat, on the edge, his good hand gripping the right armpit.  
It wasn't easy to face the Queen, he spent a few sleepless nights pondering her proposal, the implications, the consequences for all those involved.  
"I did terrible things to protect my family. Do you really want a man like me for your sister? How much Tyrion told you about us Lannisters?  
She heard about the scandal, bits and pieces, words half muttered, half shouted from Tyrion's lips when he was in a alcohol induced bad mood; the story of a forbidden love that started during childhood.  
Jaime opened his heart to the Queen of the North, because he couldn't feel wrong about Cersei, whatever explanation or justification of his sexual relationship with her he could offer.  
Sansa listened and saw his face change expression: the discovery of their love, the fear, the novelty for two teenagers, the passion, his pain for her marriage, the choice of bearing his children only, Joffrey.  
Jaime stood and paced the room, than he faced the Queen.  
"The worst I did was regarding her children. Our children. I sired them and played the uncle often away. If I behaved in another way, one of them could be alive, and Cersei would have not lost her mind. "  
"Tyrion told me she always passed them as her husband's."  
"Absolutely. She raised them without any interference from me and I failed all of them. Joffrey behaviour was diagnosed as a psychopath and he ended up murdered in a riot."  
Sansa knew about the risks of inbreeding. Myrcella was a healthy girl and her death a fatality, Tommen died as a war hero, two of three were good people.  
"It will be a new start this time round. There's not .."  
"I can't. I can't sleep thinking about it. I've seen Cersei last week, she'll live in a clinic forever."  
"She had her chances like al of us. Life is harsh, sometimes."  
He was afraid, how could he explain Sansa his regrets and guilt regarding his former life?  
"Me and your father became rivals for the same position at the old king's service and my own father did not prevent Ned Stark to be wrongly killed for treason."  
"You weren't the one signing the sentence for my father."  
"But we had been enemies for long. I'm sure Arya doesn't want me, doesn't want to be burdened by a cripple. She's so fierce and brave and if I could I'd give her the world."  
His eyes up to the ceiling, he felt hollow, tired, the same after he lost his hand, when the physical pain had lessened and it was his mind fighting with the ghost pain.  
Sansa stood and turned around her table, putting a hand on his shoulder to make Jaime look at her.  
"You care about Arya, don't you?"  
He nodded, unable to speak.  
He cared so much about her and she did not deserve what her sister wanted for her, but Sansa was the queen and they could not oppose. Too many people died for the peace on the kingdoms and the stark were a guarantee to it in the north  
Sansa let her hand grab Jaime's warm one: respect and care were a good start for him and Arya, like herself and Tyrion had.  
"I'm sorry for the pressure I put on Arya and you, but don't you think you deserve another chance?"

BRAN I

Bran Stark visited Wintertown twice a year, spending there around two weeks each; Meera was a Northerner, too, she loved the North and wanted to show their son the family homeland.  
At Winterfell Bran could set off his shoulders the continue pressure of his work.  
But the situation Brand found at his youth home was tense: his sisters were barely speaking to each other, Sansa appeared so algid Bran recognised her usual copying mechanism, so he tried with Arya, who appeared more manageable. His surprise at discovering the nature of the problem was great indeed.  
Arys was confused and glad for Bran's desire to help ; there were many fears tormenting Major Stark.  
"Would Sansa be jealous if…if I walk around with a babe inside me?"  
"I don not know, Arya, I cannot predict what she'll feel. you'll do it for our family, so she must be happy. It's her wish."  
"I could leave for a while."  
"And face a pregnancy all alone? Or take the father with you?"  
"I don't know, the presumed father is more scared than me!"  
Bran moved his wheel chair closer to take Arya's hand.  
"What more for Winterfell than a true Stark ruling it?"  
"But it won't be Sansa's."  
"With her own sister as the mother and her husband's brother as the father, it'd be the closest possible to hers. We never imagined to rule the North, we only wanted our family safe after we destroyed the tyranny. We can build a future for all of us. Arya, children are easy to love, me and Meera never imagined the joy our Rick give us."  
They watched from the winter garden, shielded by glasses against the cold, where Sansa kept her beloved lemon trees, Jaime and Bronn's arrival on the land rover; Bronn parked and they walked to the army headquarters offices – the former stables - immersed in a heated conversation: Near the entrance door Bronn lifted his hands in defeat, turned and went to meet Sandor, who was standing outside the canteen with a steaming cup to warm his hands.  
"Bronn is hot tempered, but we trust him."  
"Yes, Arya, I remember when he took me to my first private club."  
"Don't tell Sansa! I believed Tyrion took you there."  
Bran laughed.  
"I am glad I had a few girls before everything went to hell. And Bronn tried to take Jamie with us and he always refused."  
"He arrived here with Jaime. Do you remember we didn't trust them at first?"  
Following the scandal about Jaime and Cersei, when Joffrey was killed, his father restrained Jiame from seeing Cersei.  
Tywin Lannister's power and connections made easy to send Jaime to the north as a punishment, the cold north he hated with all his heart. His only consolation, Tyrion was there, working as chancellor for the North rulers.  
When the old lion died of an heart attack, Cersei was in her first psychiatric hospital and Jaime decided to stay, he devoted himself to the North army under winds of war until the night he heard the bombers' engines up in the sky. It was barely a rumour but his trained ears were ready, so he awoke Bronn, sleeping exhausted on an armchair and they gave commands to the antiaircraft.  
"He was with me at Moat Calin." Bran was wounded there and nearly died, Arya remembered the terror of loosing another brother. "he was already our Colonel, one of the best soldiers I met."  
"With an hand only?"  
"Yes, Arya, hew was worth and he's still. Not because he was Tywin's son, Tyrion's brother or Cersei's lover. He stood alone proudly, like you stand now."


End file.
